Chapter 12
Crazy-Head Grumpy
SIAN
It was Sunday evening. Five minutes to eight, to be precise, and the evening before term officially started. Sian was making her way to her mother's office, because she had something to discuss with her. It was unusual for Sian to visit her mother this early on when she had just come back to school, but she just couldn't wait to talk to her. She walked up to the glass elevator on the second floor, put one token into the slot where the token compartment was, and once she had done that, Sian stepped inside once the elevator doo had opened and, once the door had closed, she spoke loud and clearly, "One to take to the Headmistress' office, please." As the door locked, metal hooks fell down from the ceiling to grab on to, but Sian didn't need them, for she was comfortable enough with the ride by now to resort to those things, as the elevator shot off like a rocket, going practically all over the school, until it reached the door to the headmistress' office. Sian stepped out when the door unlocked and opened, and as the elevator sped off again, Sian knocked on the door in a business-like fashion.
"Enter," said her mother's soft voice, and after she had smiled softly and let out a small sigh, Sian entered the office, which was just the same as it always was: Kenna the phoenix was asleep on her perch by the door; interesting silver instruments were stood on tables, puffing smoke and whirring away as always; the drawings she and her siblings had sent their mother over the years were still stuck on a wall, and the portraits of all the previous headmasters and headmistresses of Dragon Mort, which lined the large, circular room, were sleeping peacefully, for which Sian was glad of, for she did not want an audience to witness what she wanted to talk to her mother about.
And speaking of her mother, when Crighton saw Sian, she smiled widely, her emerald eyes sparkling brightly, as she stood up and walked around her desk to embrace her daughter, who wore robes of forest green, which clashed well with her emerald eyes.
"Sian, my darling," said Crighton, after she had let go of her daughter and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "How are you?"
"Not bad. And yourself, Ma?"
"Oh, same old, same old," said Crighton, and both mother and daughter laughed at this. This was what Sian liked the most about her mother; that no matter what was on her mind, her mother was always warm and willing to listen, was very easy to talk to, and was also good at cheering her up, just as Sian would do if her mother was upset by something.
"So, my darling," Crighton said, cutting straight to it, "to what do I owe this early pleasure? For I do not normally see you this early on when you've just come back from your summer holidays ..."
Sian's smile faded, and she turned away from her mother. Not scared, just nervous, and she didn't know where to begin.
Sian seemed to sense that her mother was worried about her, and was proven right a few moments later, when Crighton stepped to her side, lifted her chin up to face her, brushed from of the hair from Sian's face and said, "Come, Sian. What's troubling you?"
Sian knew it would be useless to lie to her mother, so she took a deep breath, and said, "I'm scared, Ma."
"About what, my darling?"
"About the guests that are coming and how they will act if any of them find out about my ... condition," she finished slowly, turning her face away and rubbing her gloved hands rather nervously.
Sian didn't want to face her mother, for she didn't want to see the look on her mother's face when she told her that she was a child and should grow up. But she was mistaken, for instead her mother said reassuringly, "Sian, you've made amazing progress over the last few years you've been here. You haven't hurt anyone with your unusual branch of magic - " (Sian shivered at this) " - and besides, remember what your father and I have taught you when you are not wearing the gloves and when things get too much for you: "Conceal - " "
" " - don't feel, don't let them know." I know, Ma," Sian snapped. "But these people are from different places, whose tastes and customs are different than our own; and I'm afraid that if they find out what I can do that they will reject me and not accept me ... and I don't think I could live with that," Sian finished, a slight tremor in her voice.
The next thing Sian knew, her mother's arms were around her, and before she could control herself, Sian was sobbing convulsively into her mother's chest, as Crighton stroked her hair comfortingly. When Sian had composed herself, Crighton stepped back enough away from her daughter to look at her, but not too far to lose touch, and said, "Now then, Sian, listen to me. I know that you're afraid, and it's understandable, but there will be someone out there who will soon come into your life and will shake your whole world around, and you will accept him and he will accept you - "
"Humph!" Sian snorted, turning her face away resentfully. "No one will love me. I'm too cold-hearted, remember?" Sure, Sian wanted to love someone, and find someone who truly loved her, but she thought that it was just a dream, and that she would grow old and die alone.
Sian felt her mother smiling slightly behind her back, like she was trying to hide a laugh, before she said, "You will find him, Sian. Whether you like it or not, he will come to you." And even though it was reassuring to Sian the words her mother told her, she was still firm in her belief that it was impossible for her to find someone to love her.
After a few moments of silence, Crighton said, "Actually, Sian, I am glad that you are here."
Sian, glad that her mother had changed the subject, turned round to face her mother and said, "Really, Ma? Why?"
"Well, not only is your presence welcome to me, but I have a job for you, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida."
"What sort of job, Ma?" asked Sian, interested now in what her mother wanted she and her sisters to do. She then listened carefully, as her mother explained to what she wanted she and her sisters to prepare for when the guests arrived. She didn't know exactly what they were going to do, but ideas were already starting to swim around Sian's head.
" ... and remember, Sian, this must be done for the night our guests arrive," Crighton finished.
"It will be done, Ma," Sian said. Crighton nodded her head in approval as Sian said, "Ma, are we still working for the Oracle?"
"Yes, my daughter. He's not done with you yet, you know."
Sian was glad to hear this, for she was pleased that the Oracle still relied on she and her sisters for help. After a few more words with her mother, Sian bid her goodnight and left, wanting to get a good night's sleep, so that she would be well-rested for her lessons the next day.
0000
KIARA
By Monday morning, the rain had finally stopped, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter grey swirled overhead as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I examined our new timetables at breakfast. A few seats along, Tanya, Geri and Leah Jones were discussing magical methods of ageing themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.
"Today's not bad ... outside all morning," said Chrissie, who ran his finger down the Monday column of her timetable, "Herbology with the Badger-Stripes and Care of Magical Creatures ... damn it, we're still with the Snake-Eyes."
"Double Divination this afternoon," I groaned, looking down. Back then, Divination was my least favourite subject, next to Potions. Professor Crystals was always predicting my death, which I always found extremely annoying.
"You should have given it up like me, then, shouldn't you?" said Sian briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Ancient Runes."
"Or Arithmancy," Chris added.
"You're eating normally again, I notice," said Chrissie, who was watching her sister add liberal amounts of marmalade to her buttered toast.
"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Sian haughtily.
"Yeah ... and you were quite hungry," said Chrissie, grinning.
There was a sudden noise above us and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows, carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, I looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and grey. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Nikita Bore and deposited a parcel in her lap - Nikita always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall, Dani Malty's eagle owl landed on her shoulder, carrying what looked like her usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in my stomach, I returned to my porridge. I remember how scared I was, thinking that something terrible had happened to Harold and that my parents hadn't got my letter.
My preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until we arrived in greenhouse three, but once there I was distracted by Spud, who was showing us the ugliest plants I have ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick black giant slugs that were protruding from vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly, and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.
"Bubotubers, dudes," Spud told us briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus - "
"The what?" said Zara Finn, who sounded revolted.
"Pus, Finn, pus," said Spud, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Best wear your dragon-hide gloves, 'cause it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, Bubotuber pus."
Squeezing out the Bubotuber pus was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick, yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. We caught it in the bottles Spud had indicated, and by the end of the lesson we had collected several pints.
"This'll keep Matron happy," said Spud, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, Bubotuber pus. Should stop students from resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of acne."
"Like poor Emmett Midwood," said Henry Abbott, a Badger-Stripes boy in a hushed voice. "He tried to curse his off."
"I pity that poor, young fool," said Spud, shaking his head. "But Matron did fix his nose back on in the end."
A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Badger-Stripes climbed the stone steps for Transfiguration, and we Lion-Hearts headed for in the other direction, down the sloping lawn towards Mina's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Black Forest.
Mina was standing outside her hut, one hand around her enormous black boarhound, Gnasher. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at her feet, and Gnasher was whimpering and straining at her collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As we drew nearer, an odd shuddering, rattling noise reached our ears, punctuated by what sounded like thousands od woodpeckers tapping on wood, which was followed every so often by a loud, earth-breaking bang, which made the ground shudder and us all jump.
"Mornin'!" Mina said, grinning at Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I. "Be'er wait fer the Snake-Eyes bunch, they won' want ter miss this - Shudder-Ended Crabs!"
"Come again?" said Chris.
Mina pointed down into the crates.
"Ewww!" Larry Brown said in a rather low voice.
"Ewww" just about summed up the Shudder-Ended Crabs, in my opinion. The looked like deformed, shell-less crabs, horribly pale and slimy looking, with many legs that never ceased to move, which explained the tapping noises, and they had no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, about six inches long and crawling over each other, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes, and there were no pincers coming out wither side of it, apart from at the back of their bodies, where there was a large pincer, about two sizes wider than its body, which didn't make any snapping noises with it - in fact, I don't think the Crabs could move the pincer properly at all, for it was pure muscle; every now and then would come crashing down upon each other or the crate. The Shudder-Ended Crabs must have been made of very strong stuff, for they didn't harm each other, but with each bang, they did jump forward a few inches.
"On'y jus' hatched," said Mina proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"
"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice.
The Snake-Eyes lot had arrived. The speaker was Dani Malty. Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley all chuckled appreciatively at her words, though I thought I saw something close to the feeling of being uncomfortable flash quickly in Rae-Bradley's eyes.
Mina looked stumped at the question.
"I think what my cousin is trying to say is, what do they do?" asked Rae-Bradley. "What is the point of them?"
Mina opened her mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then she said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, you two. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things. I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - jus' try 'em out with a bit of each."
"First pus and now this," muttered Zara.
Nothing but deep affection for Mina could have made Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Shudder-Ended Crabs. I couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the Crabs didn't seem to have mouths.
"Ouch!" yelled Dena Wright, after about ten minutes. "It got me!"
Mina hurried over to her, looking anxious.
"Its great, shuddering pincer banged down on my hand!" said Dena angrily, showing Mina her hand which began to swell with bruising.
"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they start shuddering their pincers," said Mina, nodding. She then looked at Dena's hand, which was progressing with its swelling. "Off ter the hospital wing with yeh, then, Dena, there's a good girl." Dena hurried off without a backwards glance.
"Eww!" said Larry Brown again. "Eww, Mina, what's that pointed curved thing at the back on it?"
"Ah, some of 'em have horns," said Mina enthusiastically (I quickly withdrew my hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males ... the females have got sorta claws on their bellies ... I think they might be a sorta defensive mechanism."
"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Malty sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can crush, slice and cut you open all at once?"
"Just because they're not very pretty doesn't mean they're not useful," Sian snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, isn't it, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"
Chris, Chrissie and I grinned at Mina, who gave us a furtive smile. Mina would have like nothing better than a pet dragon, as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I knew only too well - she had owned one for a brief period of time during our first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norberta. Mina simply love monstrous creatures - the more lethal, the better in her eyes.
"Well, at least the Crabs are small," said Chrissie, as we all made our way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.
"They are now," said Sian in an exasperated voice, "but once Mina's figured out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."
"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure sickness or something, will it?" said Chrissie, grinning slyly at her.
"You know as well as I do that I only said that to shut Malty and Rae-Bradley up," said Sian. "As a matter of fact, I think they're right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."
We sat down at the Lion-Heart table and helped ourselves to pork chops and potatoes. Sian began to eat so fast that Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I stared at her.
"Er - is this a new stand on elf rights?" said Chris. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"
"No," said Sian, with as much dignity as she could muster, seeing as her mouth was bulging with potatoes. "I just want to get to the library."
"What?" said Chrissie in disbelief. "Sian - it's the first proper day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"
Sian shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten in days. Then she leapt to her feet, and before she left, turned to Chrissie and said, "Oh, can you, Beth, Kestrel and Merida meet me in the library before lessons start this afternoon?"
"Why?" Chrissie asked, looking at Sian curiously. "You're not going to get us joining in with your elf rights thing, are you?"
Sian shook her head and said, "No, this is something completely different that Ma wants us to do. So, will you get them and come?" Chrissie thought for a few moments before she nodded. "Great!" Sian said to her, before turning to Chris and I, and saying, "See you at dinner!" and departed at high speed.
During lunch, Chrissie left with Beth, Kestrel and Merida to find Sian in the library, which meant that Chris and I were left all alone. It was nice, us talking without Sian and Chrissie's bickering, and the quiet and peace that passed between us during that time was so unreal, that it felt like Chris and I were in a dream - that is, until the bell rang like an annoying alarm clock which woke us up and brought us back to reality. So it was with great regret that Chris and I split up for class; he for Arithmancy, and I to the North Tower for Divination, which was at the top of a highly spiralling staircase, where a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Crystals lived. I saw Chrissie at the top of the staircase waiting for me, looking very happy and rather excited about something, which I'm guessing is what Sian had spoken to her, Beth, Kestrel and Merida about. When I tried to ask Chrissie what it was, she said that she couldn't tell me, and that I and the rest of the school would find out when Beauxbatons and Uagadou would arrive, and that we would all like it. And with that, the topic was silenced, and we proceeded up the stepladder to Professor Crystals' room.
The familiar sweet perfume emanating from the fire met our nostrils as we emerged at the top of the stepladder. As ever, the curtains were all closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light that was cast by many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Chrissie and I walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and pouffes that cluttered the room, and we sat down at our same small circular table.
"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Crystals from right behind me, which made me jump.
A very thin man with enormous glasses that made his eyes appear far too large for his face, Professor Crystals was peering down at me with the tragic expression he always wore whenever he saw me. The usual large amount of beads, chains and bangles gittered upon his person in the firelight.
"You are preoccupied, my dear," he said mournfully to me. "My Inner Eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. Alas, I see difficult times ahead for you ... most difficult ... I fear that the thing you dread will indeed come to pass ... and perhaps sooner than you think ..."
His voice dropped to almost a whisper. Chrissie rolled her eyes at me, and I looked steadily back. Professor Crystals swept past us and seated himself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing all of us. Larry Brown and Perry Party, who deeply admired Professor Crystals, were sat on pouffes very close to him.
"My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars," he said. "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand and the depths of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle ..."
But my thoughts had drifted. The perfumed fire used to always make me feel sleepy and dull-witted, and Professor Crystals' rambling talks on fortune-telling never held me exactly spellbound - though I couldn't help but think about what he had just said to me: "I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass ..."
But Sian was right, I thought irritably, Professor Crystals really was an old fraud. I wasn't dreading anything at all at that moment in time ... well, unless you counted my then-constant fear that my parents had been caught ... but what did Professor Crystals know? I have long since come to the conclusion that his brand of fortune-telling was really no more than lucky guess-work and a spooky manner (sorry, Professor Crystals, but I am entitled to my opinion, and this is my story).
Except of course for the end of last term, when he had made the prediction about Zira rising again ... and Crighton herself had said that she thought that trance had been genuine when I had described it to her ...
"Kiara!" Chrissie muttered.
"What?"
I looked around; the rest of my class had been staring at me. I sat up straight; I had been almost dozing off, lost in the heat of my thoughts.
"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn," said Professor Crystals, a faint note of resentment in his voice at the fact that I had obviously not been paying attention to what he had just said.
"Born under - what, sorry?" I said.
"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!" said Professor Crystals, who definitely sounded irritated that I wasn't riveted by this news. "I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth, despite your bright hair ... your dark eyes ... your mean stature ... tragic losses so young in life ... I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in mid-winter."
"No," I said, "I was born in July."
Chrissie hastily turned her laugh into a hacking cough.
Half an hour later, all of us in that room had been given a complicated colour chart, and we were attempting to fill in the position of the planets at our moments of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles.
"I've got two Neptunes here," I said after a while, frowning down at my piece of parchment, "that can't be right, can it?"
"Aaaah," said Chrissie, imitating Professor Crystals' mystical whisper, "when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a golden-haired midget is born, Kiara ..."
Zara and Dena, who were working at a nearby table, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited voice of Larry Brown - "Oh, Professor, look! I think I've got an unexpected planet! Oooh, which one is that, Professor?"
"It is Uranus, dear," said Professor Crystals, peering down at the chart.
Then Chrissie said something which, funny as it was, was also inappropriate and rather dirty. Professor Crystals was also in hearing when Chrissie said this, and we unfortunately ended up with having so much homework at the end of the class.
"A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart," he said, sounding much more like Professor Darbus than his usual, airy-fairy self. "I want it ready to hand in on Monday, and no excuses!"
"Miserable old bat," said Chrissie bitterly, as we joined the crowds that were descending the staircases back to the Great Hall for dinner. "That'll take all weekend, that will ..."
"Lots of homework?" said Sian, as she and Chris caught up with us. "I didn't get any in Ancient Runes, did you, Rickers?"
"None whatsoever, Sian," smiled Chris.
"Thanks for rubbing it in," said Chrissie bluntly.
We had reached the Entrance Hall, which was packed with people queueing for dinner. We had joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind us.
"Dawsons! Hey, Dawsons!"
Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I turned. Malty, Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley were standing there, each looking triumphantly pleased about something - apart from Rae-Bradley, who appeared to be uncomfortable.
"What?" said Chrissie shortly.
"Your dad's in the paper, Dawson!" said Malty, brandishing a copy of the Daily Squabbler, and spoke very loudly, so that all of us in the packed Entrance Hall could hear. "Listen to this!"
FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not at an end, writes Peter Meter, special correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch Friendly, and still unable to account for the disappearance of some of its wizards, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Marcus Dawson of the Auror Department.
Malty looked up.
"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Dawson, it's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" she crowed.
Everyone in the Entrance Hall was listening. Malty straightened the paper with a flourish, and read on:
Marcus Dawson, who was charged with the possession of a flying car two years ago was involved with a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly-aggressive dustbins. Mr Dawson appears to have rushed to the aid of "Crazy-Head" Grumpy, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when she was no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and an attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr Dawson found, upon arrival at Miss Grumpy's heavily guarded house, that Miss Grumpy had once again raised a false alarm. Mr Dawson was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Squabbler questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene.
"And there's a picture, Dawsons!" said Malty, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your dad outside his fine, grand house!" Your dad could do with losing a bit of weight, though, couldn't he?"
Chris and Chrissie both shook with fury, so much so that I didn't think they could have spoken even if they'd tried; but Sian, remaining calm (rather surprisingly, I thought), came forth and spoke, like the voice-of-reason that her family knew her to be, said, with her head held high, "Don't you dare insult my family, Malty! This may have escaped your notice, but my mother, my father's wife, is the headmistress of this school! So in the future, I think it would be best if you kept your opinions of my family to yourself, if you know what's good for you!"
Malty looked dumb-founded at this, and I looked rather smugly at her, before I said, "C'mon, Chris, Chrissie ..."
"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Pride-Lander?" Malty sneered, getting quickly over what Sian said to her. "So, tell me, is their father really that fat, or is it just the picture?"
"You know your father, Malty?" I said, as Sian laid her hand on Chrissie's shoulder in order to restrain her. She huffed for a bit before her shoulders slumped, even though her chest still rose and fell rapidly, and Chris' fists shook - "That expression that he's got, like he's got dirt under his nose? Has he always looked like that, or was it just because you were with him?"
Malty's face went slightly pink. "Don't you dare insult my father, Pride-Lander!"
"Now you know how we feel," Sian snarled.
"Yeah, so keep your fat mouth shut," I said, turning away.
BANG!
Several people screamed - I felt something white-hot graze the side of my face - I'd plunged my hand into my robes for my wand, but before I'd even touched it, I heard a second BANG, and a roar which echoed through the Entrance Hall.
"OH, NO YOU DON'T, LASSIE!"
I spun around. Professor Grumpy was limping down the marble staircase. Her wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malty had been standing.
There was then a terrified silence in the Entrance Hall. Nobody but Grumpy moved a muscle. Grumpy turned to look at me - at least, her normal eyes were looking at me; one of her magical eyes was pointed into the back of her head, as the other three spun round ceaselessly.
"Did she get you?" Grumpy growled. Her voice, though soft, was low and gravelly.
"No," I said. "Missed."
"LEAVE IT!" Grumpy shouted.
"Leave - what?" I said, bewildered.
"Not you - her!" Grumpy growled, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at Rae-Bradley, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed the Grumpy's rolling eyes were magical and could all see out of the back of her head.
Grumpy started to limp towards Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking towards the dungeons.
"I don't think so!" roared Grumpy, pointing her wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upwards once more.
"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back is turned," growled Grumpy, as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do ..."
The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.
"Never - do - that - again - " said Grumpy, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upwards again.
"Professor Grumpy!" said a shocked voice.
Professor Darbus came down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.
"Hello, Professor Darbus," said Grumpy calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.
"What - what are you doing?" said Professor Darbus, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.
"Teaching," said Grumpy.
"Teach - Grumpy, is that a student?" shrieked Professor Darbus, her books spilling out of her arms.
"Yep," said Grumpy.
"No!" cried Professor Darbus, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Dani Malty had re-appeared, lying in a heap on the floor with her sleek blonde hair all over her brilliantly pink face. She got to her feet, wincing.
"Grumpy, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor Darbus weakly. "Surely Professor Crighton told you that?"
"She might've mentioned it, yeah," said Grumpy, shrugging unconcernedly, "but I thought a good, sharp shock - "
"We give detentions, Grumpy! Or speak to the offender's Head of house!"
"I'll do that, then!" said Grumpy, staring at Malty with great dislike.
Malty, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Grumpy, and muttered something in which the words "my mother" were distinguishable.
"Oh, yeah?" said Grumpy quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of her wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well I know your mother of old, girl ... you tell her Grumpy's keeping a few close eyes on her daughter ... you tell her that from me ... now, your head of house'll be Triphorm, will it?"
"Yes," said Malty resentfully.
"Another old friend," growled Grumpy. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Triphorm ... come on, you ..." And she seized Malty's upper arm and marched her off towards the dungeons.
Professor Darbus stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.
"Don't talk to me," Chrissie said quietly to Chris, Sian and I, as we sat down at the Lion-Heart table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides.
"Why not?" said Sian in surprise.
"Because she obviously wants to fix that moment into her memory for ever, which I don't blame her for," said Chris, as Chrissie closed her eyes and had an uplifted expression on her face as Chris continued, "Dani Malty, the amazing bouncing ferret ..."
We all laughed at this, as Sian began doling tuna bake on to each of our plates.
"She could have really hurt Malty, though," she said. "It was good, really, that Professor Darbus stopped it - "
"Sian!" said Chrissie furiously, her eyes snapping open again, she and Chris glaring at Sian. "You're ruining the best moment of my life!"
"Yes, so please stop!" Chris snapped.
Sian made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again.
"Don't tell me you're going back to the library again?" I said, watching her.
"Got to," Sian said thickly. "Loads to do."
"But you told us - "
"It's not schoolwork," she said.
"Beth, Kest, Merry and I will meet you there soon," Chrissie said. Sian nodded at this, and five minutes later she had cleared her plate and departed.
No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Tanya Fang. "Grumpy!" she said. "How cool is she?"
"Beyond cool," said Geri, sitting down opposite Tanya.
"Supercool," said the twins' best friend, Leah Jones, who slid into the seat beside Geri. "We had her this afternoon," she told Chris, Chrissie and I.
"What was it like?" I said eagerly.
Tanya, Geri and Leah exchanged looks full of meaning.
"Never had a lesson like it," said Tanya.
"She knows, man," said Leah.
"Knows what?" said Chris, leaning forwards.
"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," said Geri impressively.
"Doing what?" I said.
"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Tanya.
"She's seen it all," said Geri.
"'Mazing," said Leah.
Chrissie dived into her bag for her timetable.
"We haven't got her 'til Thursday!" she said in a disappointed voice.
0000
A.N.: I apologise for the Frozen reference, but it's important to Sian's story and her personal development as a character, so bear that in mind when you read.
